Rise and Fall
by Filly Ingles
Summary: Updated 28thFeb2005 This is a song fic. Based mostly in the street racing scene. There is mention of Dominic, but no actual appearance. It’s short. It’s bittersweet. You decided for yourself.


Okay this is a song fic. A short one not directly based on the FATF cast but more on the street racing scene. There is mention of Dominic, but no actual appearance. It's short. It's bittersweet. And I probably wasn't in the best place when I wrote it but, It's short, it won't take to much time out of your life to read it and I think it's well written with a moral. I guess it's up to you to decide.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
Rise and Fall  
Craig David ft'ing Sting  
  
Sometimes in life you feel the fight is over,  
  
And it seems as though the writings on the wall,  
  
Superstar you finally made it,  
  
But once your picture becomes tainted,  
  
It's what they call,  
  
The rise and fall [x2]  
  
I always said that I was gonna make it,  
  
Now it's plain for everyone to see,  
  
But this game I'm in don't take no prisoners,  
  
Just casualties,  
  
I know that everything is gonna change,  
  
Even the friends I knew before me go,  
  
But this dream is the life I've been searching for,  
  
Started believing that I was the greatest,  
  
My life was never gonna be the same,  
  
Cause with the money came a different status,  
  
That's when things change,  
  
Now I'm too concerned with all the things I own,  
  
Blinded by all the pretty girls I see,  
  
I'm beginning to lose my integrity  
  
Sometimes in life you feel the fight is over,  
  
And it seems as though the writings on the wall,  
  
Superstar you finally made it,  
  
But once your picture becomes tainted,  
  
It's what they call,  
  
The rise and fall  
  
I never used to be a troublemaker,  
  
Now I don't even wanna please the fans,  
  
No autographs,  
  
No interviews,  
  
No pictures,  
  
And less demands,  
  
Given advice that was clearly wrong,  
  
The type that seems to make me feel so right,  
  
But some things you may find can take over your life,  
  
Burnt all my bridges now I've run out of places,  
  
And there's nowhere left for me to turn,  
  
Been caught in comprimising situations,  
  
I should have learnt,  
  
From all those times I didn't walk away,  
  
When I knew that it was best to go,  
  
Is it too late to show you the shape of my heart,  
  
Sometimes in life you feel the fight is over,  
  
And it seems as though the writings on the wall,  
  
Superstar you finally made it,  
  
But once your picture becomes tainted,  
  
It's what they call,  
  
The rise and fall  
  
Now I know,  
  
I made mistakes,  
  
Think I don't care,  
  
But you don't realise what this means to me,  
  
So let me have,  
  
Just one more chance,  
  
I'm not the man I used to be,  
  
Used to beeeeeeeeeee  
  
Sometimes in life you feel the fight is over,  
  
And it seems as though the writings on the wall,  
  
Superstar you finally made it,  
  
But once your picture becomes tainted,  
  
It's what they call,  
  
The rise and fall [x4]  
  
*~*~*  
  
The Rise and fall  
  
By Kelly  
  
"Sometimes in life you feel the fight is over, And it seems as though the writings on the wall, Superstar you finally made it, But once your picture becomes tainted, It's what they call, The rise and fall."  
  
Sung and repeated by the crooning singer on the dimly lit stage. Brown eye's melted into a dark brown face, with a voice that crept over you like your first lover, with passion and timbre missing in many singers. He struggled to restrain the emotions inside him, from flowing out into the song.  
  
Further into the dark bar, sat Jamel Torrens. A half black - half Italian street punk. Street racer. Street king. He was associated automatically with a roaring, modified 'til barely a part of it was original, midnight blue Acura. He did the quarter mile in a little over 9 seconds. He was the faster man in the street scene.  
  
He'd found his place two years after Dominic Toretto had fled the beautiful California cityscape for retreat in the depth of Mexico. It was a street secret. He was the grandfather of street racing; he had modified the rules, the race the game. Racing was what it was because of Dominic Toretto. Ego. Integrity. Passion. All words used to describe the legend. But he'd gotten out before his reality could damage him. The legends all died young, and Dominic was no different. His career had died when he was 18. his presence had died when his legend had sparked and flamed into a speedy jumble of hero-worship.  
  
Jamel job had been difficult near impossible. To race in under 9 seconds. impossible. To better Dominic Toretto's ghostly presence, as if he watched over the races still and shared the private joke at those that tried to better the best, was impossible. But somehow as he's life had whirled out of control his succeeded.  
  
Now he had all he had ever associated with success. Fame, reputation, women, sex, money, cars, and friends from every direction. And he also had the un-expected jolt of, enemies at every retreat, being used at every moment by money grubbing, beautiful faced, whores, business deals, offers of a little something, something from every corner, and then rivalling offers, then bang gang war's on either side of him as they vied for his attention.  
  
Soon he had nothing to live for nothing more then the pride. The struggle to go out night after night and do it in under 9 seconds. To keep the crowd entertained. To beat the competitors. for no reason other then he was good for his rep. and his life as he knew it revolved around it. He couldn't forget for a second who he was, if he wasn't recognized every thirty minutes. he had to keep the money up, he had a baby to feed, he had a babies momma to battle. he to keep his ho's and brothers in the style they had become accustomed. He had to many others to think of.  
  
"I always said that I was gonna make it, Now it's plain for everyone to see, But this game I'm in don't take no prisoners, Just casualties, I know that everything is gonna change, Even the friends I knew before me go, But this dream is the life I've been searching for, Started believing that I was the greatest, My life was never gonna be the same, Cause with the money came a different status, That's when things change, Now I'm too concerned with all the things I own, Blinded by all the pretty girls I see, I'm beginning to lose my integrity."  
  
Jamel nodded. "Amen to that." He agreed with the lyrics that fell from the singer's lips like a direct link from his brain to the singer's lips.  
  
He had no real friend anymore. He had his brothers.. Worked on his car, did there bit to contribute to the legend he was becoming. He was a superstar, and they were his nearest and dearest.  
  
Sure it had been easy to wave goodbye to his boys from the hood, he didn't need that kind of friend. Nagging him about the cops, asking him for this, for that. demanding his time, wanting to chill when it didn't suit him. He hadn't needed that. Or the knowledge that they had his back. No doubt. No questions. The history they had from the cradle. His family when he had no family, the sofa to sleep on when his babies momma got sick of his shit, like the rest of his boys had long before done.  
  
He was rolled up in the new world that was opening to his brute force and determination; It didn't dare stand in his way. He didn't except failure. And neither did his new friends. They didn't hang with the failures. The ones that lost the race. They were to good for the losers. You had to win to be part of their elite circle. And Jamel refused to lose.  
  
And the more money he won the more friends he got. Five or Six women a night sometimes in duets. Everyone loved him; it was the way it should be. He didn't need to worry about his son, Sean growing up without his notice, Sean's mommy growing more and more agitated, Jamel couldn't understand way. Just another woman on his case, he could cut her off too.  
  
But what was he left with now? Women that expected no more then one night in his bed, no-one to cook his meals, clean his house, to be home when he got back at 4 in the morning. No one to worry when he was hurt or called in by the cops. no child's laughter to fill his beach house, to wake up to. Nothing but silence or the heavy breathing of an intoxicated race skank on his arm. It was no kind of life.  
  
"I never used to be a troublemaker, Now I don't even wanna please the fans, No autographs, No interviews, No pictures, And less demands, Given advice that was clearly wrong, The type that seems to make me feel so right, But some things you may find can take over your life, Burnt all my bridges now I've run out of places, And there's nowhere left for me to turn, Been caught in compromising situations, I should have learnt, From all those times I didn't walk away, When I knew that it was best to go, Is it too late to show you the shape of my heart,"  
  
I was left no option but to face my reality, here in a bar, drinking away my sorrow trying to get enough courage to make that step, to start apologizing and hoping it wasn't to late to save the shards of my happiest times. the hardest times.  
  
"What are you doing here 'mel?" She asked pain crossing her face as she hefted the tray into her other hand, taking my empty glasses, setting 'em up with the rest. She avoided my eye's and I could understand even though a few short weeks ago I hadn't wanted to know.  
  
Her tanned legs seemed to rise from the floor and go on and on and on, her ebony skin glowed beautiful in the dingy lights of the bar she worked at, it looked so smooth, in her work clothes that didn't cover enough of her for my liking. She wanted me to leave. I knew that much.  
  
"Why'd I let you go Misper? I croaked out throwing back the rest of my drink. "I shouldn't have listened to my 'boys' thought about my rep. Do you have another man?" I asked as fast as I could.  
  
"I have a job Jamel. I have a baby to look after and I don't have time for more games. I gotta get it straight for my baby. I haven't wanted to even think about another man since you rejected me so grandly." I gapped at the lack of bitterness or false pride in that statement.  
  
"Now I know, I made mistakes, Think I don't care, But you don't realise what this means to me, So let me have, Just one more chance, I'm not the man I used to be, Used to beeeeeeeeeee" the singers mad crooning interrupted his thoughts for a second giving him inspiration.  
  
"I'm not the same man Misper. all this street racing shit it isn't worth it. Not the same as when you and Tyrell came and stayed the weekend at my house. That I can live with. you me and Tyrell. Sean on weekends. it could work. I know that now."  
  
My heart took a dive to me feet as she shook her head, "No it couldn't. I'm glad you see now 'Mel. but it won't work. You're just moving from one distraction to the other. You gotta work yourself out. you have to get things right with Sean and Kalia. Then maybe we have a chance. you gotta grow up. you can't just want to change. You have to. You son needs you. And you're the one thing my son doesn't need." Misper shook her head, and lugged the tray away.  
  
She was right; he was starting to realize that. She had her head screwed on better then anyone else in his posse. He needed to get back to his roots. His boys, Kalia and their son. He knew everything she said was right.  
  
"Jamel. here you are brother, come on you gotta get up, we got a hot one. 6 grand. and he's racing a ford. come on brother, big money."  
  
I put my glass down, "I've been drinking." he shook my head. "We'll grab a coffee on the way. let's go." One more race. just to go out a winner. then he'd leave it get it back together with Sean. make peace with Kalia.  
  
"Sometimes in life you feel the fight is over, And it seems as though the writings on the wall, Superstar you finally made it, But once your picture becomes tainted, It's what they call, The rise and fall."  
  
His racing was off, he wasn't clear headed a movement caught the corner of his eye and he swerved wildly, collecting a coupla by-standers and crashing them all into the store window. The two by-standers were thrown into the store with cuts from the glass, but Jamel couldn't or wouldn't move from his car, as the ambulance and police sirens neared the over-hanging metal foundation cracked and fell on his car trapping him inside.  
  
He nodded and spoke where he could to the fire fighters as the raced against time to get him out with the jaw's of life. Not in 9 seconds. He was sure he could do it in 9 seconds. "I just have to close my eye's for a minutes." Jamel told the nagging voice that wouldn't shut up. The voice of the fire-fighter swelled as voiced were added all shouting at him not to close his eye's. but he just needed rest. time to think.  
  
His eye's never re-opened. Even when Sean, 3, dressed up in a mini suit. cried and clung to his mothers knee's wanting daddy to wake up, and make it better. A small circle surrounded the son and his weeping mother, 6 boys from the hood, fare-welling their homie for now and ever.  
  
One woman stood on the edge of the graveyard. shaking her head against the stinging wind that befitted such an occasion. The child in her womb was supposed to have a father. But he'd been drawn away but a Molotov cocktail of adrenalin, alcohol, and heat-break.  
  
The End 


End file.
